


The King's Page

by awarrington



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anachronistic, Christmas, First Time, Fluff, Holidays, Longhaired!spock, M/M, Romance, Royalty, Servants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-19 20:17:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awarrington/pseuds/awarrington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim gets a job at the royal palace and finds himself falling for King Spock, heir to the Vulcan Empire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this story when I heard the carol "Good King Wenceslas" (the lyrics for which are at the end). Warnings for long-haired Spock! Also, some illogically old-fashioned practices for atmosphere.

Jim sat by the hearth in the servants' quarters, the soles of his bare feet facing the flames of the roaring fire as it slowly thawed him out. He reflected on his luck that he was still here, earning a wage, given he’d been hired as a page at the king’s summer palace just for the season. For some reason, the king had chosen not to move south for the winter and all temporary staff got to stay on as a result.

Since Jim boarded at the palace, he only occasionally ventured out, usually to visit his friend Bones, who lived in a small cottage four kilometers away. His friend wasn’t as lucky, and had mentioned during his visit that he was in serious financial straights. Jim wished he could help him, but knew Bones would be too proud to take a hand-out, or even borrow anything.

He thought back to the time when he'd first met Bones the previous winter in the King's Head – even then, he’d been pretty well destitute. The local hostelry was relatively empty and Bones was sitting at the bar, well on his way to being smashed. Jim took the stool next to him and listened to him as he ordered another bourbon.

"You're not from around here," Jim said to open a conversation.

Bones turned to him, his eyes slightly unfocused. "Well I reckon y'all must be psychic to have figured that out," he answered in an exaggerated southern drawl.

Jim grinned. "You're a long way from home."

Bones scowled and stared at the drink he was nursing in his hand. "Wanted to put as much distance between me and the ex-wife as I could," he said eventually. "Been working my way across country, but with winter closing in, looks like I’m gonna have to stay put awhile." With that, he threw the bourbon back in one go.

Jim winced inwardly, wondering how many times he'd done that before Jim had gotten there. "Bad divorce?" he asked, and then it had all come out: Bones’ recent release from a six month jail term for assisted suicide – an illegal act on Earth; being struck off the medical register for it; getting out of jail to find his wife had been having an affair and had divorced him; then in a separate ruling, the judge agreeing with the ex that Bones was an unfit parent and giving him no access rights to their four-year old daughter.

As misery loves company - Jim told Bones how he’d just been kicked out of the Empire Fleet Academy only a few months before graduating, _for cheating -_ they bonded over too much alcohol, cementing their friendship.

While working at the palace, he made more friends from among the staff. They were all pleasant and sociable and they often spent evenings together in the servants quarters, talking, playing games or surfing the nets on one of several consoles there for their use. They were always semi on duty, so it was an easy place to congregate in case any of them were needed.

“I hear ye visited McCoy,” the palace’s head chef said, sitting down beside him. “How’s he doing?”

“Not great, Scotty. He’s still giving odd bits of health care advice to the local villagers who can’t afford to travel in to the city for proper treatment, but it’s not enough to make a living from.”

“Aye, I hear he’s turned to natural remedies ‘cos he cannae prescribe drugs, more’s the pity. He’s a fine doctor even when all he’s got is beads an’ rattles!”

Jim laughed.

“It’s true”, Scotty says, “he fixed my shoulder up good an’ proper! Hurt like blue blazes when he popped it back, but the relief after was sheer bloody bliss.”

“Getting blind drunk and falling over your own feet! You were lucky he was around!”

“Aye, otherwise I’d have had to wait for Nurse Chapel and she wouldna been so gentle. Or understanding.”

“I’ve heard people mention her but I’ve never seen her.”

“A demon wi’ an angel’s face. My advice to you is don’t hurt yeself, or if ye do, make sure it’s bad enough to warrant a doctor!"

“I’ll bear that in mind!” Jim grinned. “Listen, Bones is looking for any paid work he can get, no matter how menial. If you hear about anything going, drop him a line.”

“Ah, now you see ye’ve come to the right person. We’re gonna be hiring in help for the household staff Christmas party an’ it pays verra well. I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“Good man,” Jim said, slapping Scotty on the shoulder.

“Cold out there?” Uhura said, pulling up a chair as she eyed Jim’s bare feet. His wet boots had left a puddle of melted snow on the stone flooring.

“Yeah, a few of centimeters of snow fell while I was with Bones. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have walked. Getting it this early in December could mean we’re in for a bad winter.”

“Aye. I haven’t seen one in years as the king normally heads south for winter. Dunno why he hasn’t this year.”

“No complaints from me,” Jim said with a smile. “I’m not on the permanent staff like you lot, so I’d have been out of a job this winter if you’d all upped and gone.”

“Don’t look at me like that!” Uhura said to the chef.

“What?” Scotty said, trying to sound innocent.

“You’re hoping I can give you the reason the king didn’t leave in October like he usually does.”

“Well ye’re his Spin Doctor…”

“Head of Communications,” Uhura corrected looking mock annoyed.

“Whatever. Ye usually have yer finger on the pulse.”

“I do,” Uhura agreed, “but not on this particular occasion. If the king had a reason for staying, he didn’t share it with me.”

"I'll bet that decision went down well with the queen - T'Pring complains about the cold in the height of summer! Mind you," the Scotsman added, "she bloody complains about everything."

Whatever Uhura thought about that, she kept to herself, Jim noticed. “Has he ever stayed in this palace over winter?” he wondered aloud.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Uhura answered. “Why?”

“Because this place is a bitch to heat – it’s not the best insulated and there are windows that rattle when the wind’s strong.”

Jim had noticed that even with the best of twenty third century technology, the huge rooms and lofty ceilings were sluggish to heat and difficult to keep warm. Since the cold weather had settled in, the king and queen had tended to keep to their own apartments where the rooms were more modest in size and much warmer. Keeping fires going around the palace had become one of his main duties.

A comm. whistle chimed and they all looked over to the console on the wall to see which room it came from. Speak of the devil – it was the king in his dressing room.

“His majesty’s called for you, Jim,” Pike, said, walking over to him with his pronounced limp. It was common knowledge he’d been invalided out the Empire Fleet where he was serving as First Officer aboard Spock’s ship _Enterprise_ , when a battle with a Cardassian cruiser left him seriously injured. “Get a move-on,” Pike added impatiently, “you know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Jim was trying to pull on his boots, still wet from the snow, as quickly as he could, but his feet were slightly swollen and they were a tight fit. “I’m on it,” he replied, stamping until his right foot slid all the way in, and briskly strode out of the kitchen.

~*~

King Spock was the only son and heir to Emperor Sarek, and had gained the kingdoms of Earth and a number of other planets upon his coming of age, just as his father had before him. Although he'd been married three years to a member of Vulcan's aristocracy, Jim couldn't see that she involved herself in any way in the affairs of state, other than to be his arm candy at official functions. Jim couldn’t imagine having that kind of burden of responsibility when so young. He sometimes thought he could barely manage himself, let alone several planetary systems.

The king hadn’t seemed to notice him at first, never acknowledging his presence if they shared a room – no doubt they got casual labor in every year. And Jim had been taught that he was never to initiate a conversation with the king, but could respond if spoken to first. Which is exactly what happened a few months earlier when the king entered his library and found Jim reading one of his books. He was supposed to be dusting them down and with the required nod of his head towards the king, he guiltily snapped the book shut. Just as he reached to put it back, the king stopped him.

“You may borrow it if you wish,” the Vulcan said mildly.

“Sire?” Given Pike had included the fact that the library was for the sole use of the king and queen in his _Big List of Facts Staff Need To Know To Survive At The Palace_ (as Jim privately called the Protocol and Etiquette Manual that all new staff had to memorize), he realized the Vulcan lending him the book was unprecedented.

“If it interests you so, and I assume that it does since I was in the room for ten point seven seconds before you noticed my presence, then take it to read at your leisure.”

Ten point…oh god. He’d looked up to see the king by the open doorway and hadn’t realized he’d been standing there so long. If it had been the queen he would have been in big trouble.

“Thank you, Sire,” Jim said gratefully as he walked towards the door – no cleaning took place with members of the royal family in the room – but he didn’t quite make it all the way before the king spoke again.

“I am curious – what is the name of the book?”

Jim flushed; it wasn’t the typical reading material of a page. “ _An Analysis of Third World War Battle Tactics_ by General Janusz Makowski, Sire.”

Even though Vulcans suppress their emotions, the look of surprise was evident on the king’s face, an eyebrow winging up to his hairline.

And that was it. Jim felt something uncoil in the pit of his belly, though he ruthlessly ignored it, thinking that standing in front of the king with your tongue hanging out was bound to be somewhere in Pike’s _Big List_ under _Things Not To Do In Front Of Royalty_.

“Indeed?” the king murmured. “What is your name?”

That question was unexpected. “James Kirk, Sire.”

“An interesting choice, James. I confess I am curious, why of all the books in this library, did you choose that one?”

Jim wished the blood in his brain hadn’t just headed south so that he had enough of his faculties operating to make up a plausible answer. Instead, he would reluctantly have to admit to the truth.

“My father served with the Empire Fleet, Sire, and died in a battle with a Romulan ship that I’m convinced he could have won – I don’t believe in no-win scenarios. So, when I was a kid, I started reading about battle tactics and strategy. I’m always on the look-out for books on those subjects that I haven’t read.”

“Kirk? Your father was George Kirk?”

Jim flushed and looked down. “Yes sir.”

He waited for the usual comment about what a hero he was, but instead the king said, “I understand Christopher served alongside him for a number of years.”

“He did, Sire, until he got promoted and transferred off the Kelvin.” Only weeks before his father’s death. Talk about lucking out, Jim thought. Well, until those Cardassians came along, he amended. It was the same battle that caused T’Pau to order Spock to stand down from the Fleet. Their working partnership had apparently been legendary, so it wasn’t surprising that the king asked Pike to become head of his household.

“Am I to understand then that your employment here is not coincidental?”

Jim’s flush darkened. “No Sire.” The king didn’t need to know it had been Pike who’d bailed him out after he’d been arrested for drunken brawling; and instead of reading him the riot act or telling him how disappointed he was with George Kirk’s son, he’d simply offered him the seasonal job. And Jim, with no money, no employment and nowhere to live, had gratefully taken it. 

“If you wish to borrow other books, you need not ask my permission. I will inform Christopher at our next meeting that I have accorded you this right.”

“Thank you, Sire,” he said and quickly left, before he was asked any more questions.

The job had just gotten better on two fronts – free access to an incredible library of books, many of which weren’t available on the nets, and getting to work for a gorgeous Vulcan who would provide him with some interesting fantasy material.

The book though, after all that, wasn’t that good, but he later found a few gems.

Over the next two weeks, Jim occasionally saw the king in passing, but wasn’t directly addressed again until he was building a fire in the hearth of the formal State Room in preparation for an important political meeting. The king entered and as per the _Big List_ , he carried on with his task, the king apparently preferring staff to simply continue their duties. The queen, on the other hand, would have required him to stand to attention. He was glad he rarely saw her.

Initially ignoring him, the king put down several padds on the sill and stared out the window across the expanse of ornamental gardens set to the rear of the palace. Jim took a moment to appreciate the view. Instead of wearing his Vulcan robes, the king was dressed in a dark green tunic and form-fitting black pants that showed off a nice curved ass, his hair in the traditional braids of married Vulcans, reaching halfway down his back. Before the king turned and caught him staring, he turned back to tending the fire.

“You failed to mention you were a cadet at the Fleet Academy, James,” the king said suddenly after several minutes of silence. Jim flushed. Now the king would think him a cheat. He guessed Pike must have told him when the king let him know he would be allowed to borrow books. There was ample opportunity to mention this in the intervening weeks, and Jim wondered why now.

“I understand you were not just top of your class but had, up to the point of your expulsion, exceeded all other humans in your scores. I regret the decision came from those whose thinking is so rigid.”

“Sire?” he said, surprised, standing.

“To fix the parameters of the simulation in order to prevent the possibility of a win is unfair to the cadets. That you were still able to find a way around it demonstrates original and creative thinking.”

“Yeah, well none of the admirals on the panel saw it that way. Our enemies rarely behave predictably. It’s our job to be prepared, out-maneuver them and come out the winners.”

“Indeed, I understand you specialized in tactics at the Academy and, from our previous discussion, that you are well-read on the subject. I am curious as to what you would do in my position.”

Ah, that was why he’d brought it up. “Yes, Sire?”

“I have the presidents of two nations who are ready to declare war on each other over disputed territory. During seismic activity twenty two years ago, an island was created in the sea exactly halfway between the two countries. It has since become a breeding ground for wild chaathra – a rare bird that you may know is not native to Earth. It has recently been found to have the perfect mineral deposits in the stone and the ideal climate for growing ske’elth, which I am sure you know can be spun into a very rare and valuable yarn. However, if it were to be grown, it would destroy this new wildlife habitat. Both sides are claiming the other side wants the land to grow ske’elth while claiming they wish to preserve it as a wildlife reserve.”

Jim stood immobilized, wondering what to say. What if he made a suggestion, the king liked it and followed it and it turned out to be a disaster? A thought struck him.

“Are you familiar with the Judgment of King Solomon, Sire?”

“I am not.” He picked up one of his padds and began to work on it as Jim waited. After several minutes, he looked up and it was as if his eyes were gleaming. “Fascinating.” With that, he left, leaving Jim to finish his task in plenty of time for the meeting.

Jim didn’t hear what the outcome of the meeting was, but the following day, Pike approached him and told him that he had apparently made a good impression on the king.

After that, when the king wasn’t busy with planetary affairs, Jim found himself frequently being requested to attend to the fire and other tasks, usually in the king’s drawing room. The first few times, the king ignored him after telling him to come in at his knock. But after several visits, the Vulcan struck up a conversation with him, showing an interest in him and asking him personal details about his life.

Jim knew that Pike aside as a special case, the king had a more personal relationship with his senior staff, such as Scotty and Uhura, and wondered if this was a precursor to being promoted, though he was unaware of any senior positions becoming vacant.

One morning after being summoned, he sensed a tension about the king as he walked into the room, even though the Vulcan had his back to him.

The fire was already burning, though the flames were low, so Jim began to build it up again using smaller chunks of wood. It would be several minutes before he could put on anything as big as a log without risk of smothering the fire.

“You Terrans may soon be rid of me, James,” the king suddenly declared into the silence.

Jim quickly stood up, still clutching a log. “Sire?” he asked, alarmed.

“The probability of war with the Klingons now stands at eighty nine point three percent, and even if we are victors, our depleted Fleet will be vulnerable to attack from any number of other enemies that clamor at our borders.”

A few months ago, it was unthinkable that the king would have had this conversation with him - he enjoyed the discussions they frequently shared. Jim had heard from Pike that incursions by Klingons into Vulcan empire space had increased dramatically over recent months, as though they were testing the empire’s defenses.

“Is it really that serious, Sire?” Pike hadn’t seemed too optimistic. It was a big worry for Terrans. While they were part of the Vulcan empire, they were governed fairly with a high degree of autonomy, and importantly, they were provided protection from the likes of the Klingons, Romulans, Cardassians and half a dozen other factions who were all jostling to gain power over this sector of space.

“With their new cloaking devices, they are impossible to catch.”

Seeing the flames were building nicely, Jim dropped the log onto the fire. “Does the empire have access to such technology, Sire?”

“We do, but we are further behind. While we can render our craft invisible, we are unable to cover the ion trail that results from warp flight. Meanwhile we have attempted every logical means at our disposal to ward off their attacks and dissuade them from entering our space.”

“What about illogical means, Sire?”

“I do not understand.”

“Their tacticians will base their strategy on the fact that as Vulcans, you’ll use logic as the basis for your defense. So what if you approached it in an illogical way – you know, lateral thinking? Like with a Trojan horse, or something.”

“I am unfamiliar with the reference,” the king said and began to work on his padd. After several minutes, the king commed Pike and then continued to tap at his device until the Head of Household arrived.

Pike entered, nodded to the king and then took in Jim standing by the fire.

“Sire?”

“It would appear the empire may have overlooked an important strategic source. Come James, join us for a discussion.”

The plan they came up with was simple. Gather a fleet of outdated ships and equip them with cloaking devices. Using remote devices, send them, empty, to a point close to the neutral zone. When the Klingon armada arrives – thinking the Vulcans are about to attack – they would need to decloak to attack the ships. At that point, the real Vulcan fleet, also fitted with cloaking devices, lying in wait and therefore leaving no tell-tail ion trail, would surround the Klingons and decimate their fleet. It would take months of planning.

Jim found himself called even more frequently to the king’s apartments often to carry out mundane tasks, but which often led to long conversations and discussions. He had fallen in lust with him that day in the library – he was a red-blooded young man after all; and in fairness, he thought, anyone with eyes would agree with him. In fact he knew half the household had the hots for their royal employer – but with the more regular exposure to him, he found he was coming to know and like him as a person. Too bad he was off-limits he thought to himself, not just because he was married, but because he was, you know, king of Earth and several other less important planets. This unrequited thing sucked.


	2. Chapter 2

So here Jim was, heading towards the king’s _dressing room_ with his boots wet and squelchy from his visit to Bones, the first time he’d been called to that chamber. That and his bedroom were the king's 'inner sanctum' and virtually none of the staff ever got to see them. He climbed the back staircase two steps at a time and arrived on the second floor only slightly out of breath. He needed to calm himself – it wouldn’t do to let the king see him flustered. The problem was, it seemed to have become his permanent state whenever in his majesty’s presence.

He counted himself lucky, because the king seemed to have come to favor him over other general palace staff, so he got to spend more time in his presence than most.

Arriving at a large oak door, he knocked.

“Enter.”

Jim pushed open the door and, as though stepping into a summer’s day, was enveloped in the warm air emanating from both the central heating system and the roaring fire in the stone hearth at one end of the room. When he saw the king, sitting at his dressing table, it was all he could do not to ogle. The Vulcan was facing the mirror, and for the first time, Jim saw the king’s long hair unbraided, cascading luxuriously down his back to his waist.

“Sire,” he nodded his head down once in the correct manner.

“Come,” the king commanded, looking at him via the mirror, rather than turning around. “I wish you to brush my hair.”

Jim swallowed nervously and walked forward, a ton of questions tumbling through his mind, none of which were appropriate for him to ask.

The king sat tall and straight on a stool, his hands clasped lightly in his lap. On the dresser lay a silver-backed hair-brush with an intricate pattern carved into the metal, and next to it, a matching comb. Picking up the brush, he stood behind the king and began to run it through the long tresses. The king’s hair was soft, like strands of silk and he felt the crazy urge to run his fingers through it.

“You are wondering why I have released my marital braids,” the king said suddenly into the silence.

Jim looked up at his reflection guiltily. Of course he knew Vulcans were telepaths, but had been taught they needed physical contact to be able to read the minds of others.

“It’s not my place to question, sire,” he said in his most deferential tone, his gaze turning back to the beautiful hair.

The king was silent for a moment. “The queen will depart from Earth tomorrow and will not be returning.”

He couldn’t blame the woman for not enjoying her stay here, as it was well-known she did. Coming from such a hot planet, she had apparently never taken to Earth, even when staying in the king’s other palaces in warmer climates.

He wasn’t sure what to say, if anything, about the queen’s imminent and permanent departure. “I’m sorry, sire.”

The king quirked an eyebrow. “You are sorry T’Pring is leaving?” There was a note of incredulity in his voice. Jim wasn’t sure what to make of that. The queen had treated the servants poorly, even having gone as far as beating one when he didn’t do something fast enough for her liking. Pike had reported that incident to the king and it had never happened again. Even so, she was universally disliked by the palace staff. Maybe the king was aware of that antipathy.

Jim swallowed. What could he say? If he lied, it was possible the king would pick that up and might get angry. “I’m sorry she’s leaving _you_ , sire.”

“Are you?” the king asked, surprised.

“She’s your wife and companion, sire,” Jim said, trying to explain his comment.

“Ah, you are empathizing with me, rather than expressing your own feelings,” the king nodded. “However, you are basing that empathy on an erroneous assumption.”

Jim’s eyes flickered up to the mirror, catching the dark gaze and holding it, feeling his heart-race increase. “Sire?”

“I am not sorry she is going,” the king clarified. “I have informed the Supreme Matriarch that I wish my marriage annulled.”

Jim was startled that the king was sharing such private information with him, a lowly page. He was certain that Pike had the king’s confidence and Uhura probably was in the know about certain matters, as she needed to provide the press with reports and updates, or fob them off, depending on the situation. Now it seemed the king trusted him, too, and rightly so as he wouldn’t be sharing the contents of this conversation with anyone.

He considered the king’s comment. He’d heard that T’Pau was the power behind the Emperor’s throne, her son, Sarek, taking over the mantel when her husband had been killed in an ambush by Romulans. Until that time, he had been King of Earth and had lived here for many years, even taking a Human wife – the first to do so in all Vulcan’s history. He had no idea what Vulcans thought of divorce though evidently, they must allow it.

As he brushed the long strands, he wondered what had caused the split. They’d been married three years, after the king had been taken ill while on a visit to Earth. Gaila had told him the story of the mysterious goings on: how the king’s Vulcan retinue had become very protective of him, not allowing any humans to see him before he was whisked away, taken back to his home planet. Rumors at the time had been rife, and in the end, Pike had called a meeting and read the riot act. He didn’t stand for any gossip, keeping a tight rein on the household staff.

When the king returned, he brought with him his new wife, T’Pring and below stairs, all hell had broken loose within days, as her unkind treatment of the servants quickly became known.

He wondered if the divorce was because she’d failed to bear him children. He wasn’t surprised as they had an odd sleeping arrangement, living in separate, though connected, apartments within the palace. He had no idea how often the king commanded T’Pring to his bed, but he knew from Gaila, who was her chief attendant, that the queen was always in her own bed in the morning. It had always puzzled the Orion who thought sex was awesome and couldn’t understand why T’Pring wasn’t all over her handsome husband like a rash.

“Irreconcilable differences, I believe is the term you Humans use,” the king suddenly said into silence.

Jim nodded, continuing to brush the long tresses. The king and queen were like chalk and cheese: she, cold and aloof, with a cruel streak; he, approachable and kind, going far beyond what was required, when it came to his servants – the staff Christmas party was always awesome; his benevolence was legendary.

“You may speak your mind,” the king urged when Jim didn’t respond to his comment.

_It’s not my place_ , Jim thought. Yet the king was giving him permission to speak freely. “You’re very different people,” he said carefully.

Spock nodded. “More than you can know. However, compatibility was not a consideration when the match was made when we were but children. She is high-born, of Vulcan aristocracy and my grandmother deemed her worthy to be an Emperor’s wife.”

He’d gotten used to dealing with the king, but often forgot that one day he would take over from his father and command the greatest empire in the known galaxy.

“Will you look for another wife?” he asked, boldly.

The king seems to consider the question. “I will seek a mate,” he said, eventually.

Jim brushed the king’s hair for at least another ten minutes before the Vulcan finally said, ‘Enough’.” Then to Jim’s shock, he added, “Prepare me for bed.”

The king had two dressers and Sulu and Chekov, who coveted their positions, as within the household it was considered a pretty cushy number by servants’ standards. As a page, Jim had far more general duties when it came to attending the king. Since the Vulcan was well-aware of this, he didn’t point out the obvious, but put the brush down and stepped back, waiting for the next command.

The king stuck his leg out as a hint and Jim quickly kneeled and removed his footwear and socks. They both stood and Jim began to unfasten the heavy velvet robe, trying really hard not to imagine what it would be like to do this as a precursor to awesome sex.

Slipping it off his shoulders, he carefully folded it and placed it on the stool before turning to unfasten the king’s finely woven silk shirt. He was close enough to feel the heat of the king’s skin as the fabric seemed to glide off his shoulders and down the pale arms, Jim pretending not to notice these details.

“I am, of course, perfectly capable of undressing myself,” the king said by way of explanation, “but tradition dictates that servants do it for me.”

There didn’t seem to be an intelligent answer to that, so instead, Jim focused on the pants. They were made of a luxurious fabric Jim had never come across, softer than cashmere. Unfastening them, he knelt to ensure he got them low enough for the king to comfortably step out of them, watching them slide down lightly-haired legs. There didn’t seem any point standing, as the briefs were next. Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he closed his eyes, swallowing hard, and drew them downwards, opening his eyes only to ensure he didn’t trip the king up. Then in a fluid move, carefully avoiding staring where he most wanted to, he stood up and stepped back. Unable to look the king in the eye, he gazed intently at the floor, aware he was probably looking slightly flushed.

The tension was palpable, the air seeming to crackle around them. To his knowledge, the king had never demanded sexual favors from any of his household, but then again, he hadn’t been free to do so before now. Jim was wondering – hoping? – this was a precursor for an unprecedented request.

“Thank you James, you may go,” the king finally said, quietly. Jim felt a sharp stab of disappointment. “Please inform Christopher I am preparing to retire and my bed requires turning down.”

With a nod of his head Jim swiftly turned and almost fled the room. Clattering down the backstairs, he made for the communal bathroom and slipping into a stall and locking the door, immediately pulled out the hard-on which had made an appearance somewhere between getting the king’s pants off and removing his briefs, hardening to granite while the two of them had stood there in silence.

He honestly hadn’t taken a look at the king’s cock, regretting it now as he took his own in hand, working it furiously at the thought of that expanse of hot pale skin pressed against his back, imagining the king fucking him from behind. He came harder than he had in a long time, having to suppress his gasp of release for fear of anyone overhearing.

How the fuck did Sulu and Chekov manage?

If either of the king’s dressers was aware that Jim had inadvertently usurped them that night, neither of them said anything.

~*~

The queen’s departure the following day, together with her personal Vulcan retinue, was heralded with a collective sigh of relief and Jim was one of the staff sent to work with Gaila to clear out her apartments. He wondered with the queen gone, whether she’d now lose her job. He hoped not as she was always so lively and fun to be around.

Gaila assigned him T’Pring’s morning room which had very few personal effects in it. Among the things she had chosen to discard were a number of holos of the king, some of which she was in, which sat on a console between two windows that overlooked the ornamental gardens. One, that Jim found striking, had been taken at his investiture as King to Earth. In the background stood the Emperor and his wife, and T’Pau, but it was the king standing tall and proud in black Vulcan robes that caught his eye – something in the expression on his handsome face, his dignity, his power – not the king’s political power, but rather his constantly banked strength – that drew him to it.

Standing by the window, admiring it, he was too absorbed to hear that someone had come through the open door.

“I have no need of those,” the king said, making Jim start and almost dropping the holo. “Dispose of them as you see fit.”

He nodded with a flush, having no idea how long the king had stood there observing him gawping at the holo. “Sire,” he said and quickly turned back to his task of filling up the storage trunk. When he looked up again, the king had gone.

Since he’d been given complete freedom, Jim decided that he would dispose of that holo into his own room, hiding it in his bureau, to be pulled out for occasional nefarious purposes.

~*~

Over the following two weeks, Jim returned to his more normal duties as the palace prepared for the annual Christmas party in the Great Hall. Household staff were allowed to invite members of their family and close friends, which meant several hundred people would be attending. This was Jim’s first and he had no idea what to expect, other than from what people had described – mainly Gaila, who seemed more excited than most. Jim was relieved she’d been kept on, being given the new role of housekeeper.

Although all staff attached to the kitchens would be involved in the preparation of food and the rest in setting up the Great Hall, the king hired in staff for the evening to allow his own servants to enjoy the festivities. Jim was sorry Bones wouldn’t be at the party guest, but was glad he was able to earn some much-needed money that evening. Jim knew he was taking on any work he could get, no matter how menial, to save enough to send his daughter a special gift for Christmas.

The party began with a concert complete with orchestra and choir. The king sat at the front, Pike sitting beside him in the seat that had been reserved for T’Pring for the previous three years. In one corner of the hall stood a magnificent spruce at least five meters tall, covered in thousands of tiny lights and decorations. Around the walls, torch flames flickered, adding to the ambiance.

Jim sat a few rows back and found his attention divided between the performers and the king, whose expression remained impassive for the duration of the concert. As he had done, since his ex-wife’s departure, he wore his hair down with just two braids at the front tucked neatly behind the gorgeous ears Jim longed to caress.

When the concert ended, the chairs were cleared and the party began. Jim knew many of the guests and spent the evening talking and dancing with them and others in the household staff, especially Gaila who grabbed him several times for dances through the evening. Scotty and Uhura seemed to get a lot of dances in together and he noticed Sulu and Chekov rarely left each other’s sides.

Every now and again, he searched for the king but couldn’t see him in the crowd – it was possible he’d only stayed for the formal concert – the raucous atmosphere of the party probably wasn’t his thing, Jim reflected. He caught sight of Bones a few times, carrying around trays of drinks and food, scowling for all he was worth.

“Enjoying yourself, Bones?” he grinned.

“Piss off, asshole,” Bones responded grumpily. “I hope my daughter appreciates what I’m going through to buy her access to Edu-Net.”

“Well at least this job’s inside in the warm,” Jim pointed out.

“Yeah, and it means it’s a night when I don’t have to worry about finding fuel for my wood-burner. It’s fucking criminal that I live right next to a forest and I’m not allowed to go into it to get wood to stop me _freezing to death_. I have to come all the way out this way to the woods just outside the palace grounds.”

“Yeah, I’ve never understood why that rule’s in place, but it’s been like that as far back as I can remember.” Next time the king opened up a conversation with him, he thought, he’d ask him why.

“I’d better get moving, Jim. Catch you later.” With that, Bones disappeared into the crowd with his tray of hors d’oeuvres.

Jim managed to miss the beginning of the last dance, a slow piece with the lights on low enough that the torches flickered light and shadow across the walls of the Great Hall. The floor was filled with revelers dancing close, slowly turning and swaying to the beat of the music. Jim stood against a wall, listening to the melody and imagining what it would be like to dance with the king like that, holding him close. He closed his eyes and pictured it.

“I believe the saying is, ‘a penny for your thoughts’.”

Jim’s eyes snapped open at the familiar voice. “Sire! I thought you’d gone.” To Jim, the king had never looked more beautiful, his face softened and his hair gleaming in the torchlight, making him want to run his fingers through the black, silky strands. Dark, unfathomable eyes gazed at him and something in the king’s expression shifted, and it seemed to Jim the Vulcan was smiling, even though his mouth hadn’t changed.

“You are unaware of my tradition, James?”

“Sire? Uh, no-one’s mentioned any tradition.”

“I choose not to remain for the party, as I would be obliged to dance with either none or all of the attendees who ask me. Since neither is satisfactory, I always leave after the concert. However, as a token of my appreciation to my staff for their hard work and loyalty for the past year, I return at the end to assist in clearing away the general detritus associated with such an event.”

Here was someone who never dressed or undressed himself, but was willing to help tidy after a party. The king was full of contradictions and it just left Jim feeling even more intrigued by him.

“I believe Christopher derives a degree of pleasure out of ordering me about for one evening a year.”

Jim laughed and he was certain that time that the corners of the king’s mouth quirked upwards briefly.

He didn’t notice the music had ended until Pike came over to them. “There you are sire,” he said, nodding to the king. “Are you ready?”

Spock looked at Jim, his eyebrows raised as if to say, _‘what did I tell you’_ and Jim laughed again.

Pike looked between them both, clearly wondering what was so funny.

“I am at your service, Christopher.”

It was only as the two men walked away that Jim realized he hadn’t given the king the required head-nod either at the start or the end of their brief conversation.

~*~

The following day, a lot of the staff were subdued as they nursed hangovers. Jim hadn’t drunk a lot – he’d been moderating his drinking since he’d gotten his palace job, yet he still felt under the weather, mildly nauseous and hot.

There was another function organized for that day, this time for world leaders from around the globe who descended on the palace to celebrate the Feast of Stephen with a sumptuous banquet. As this was the king’s summer palace, it was the first time since Sarek had become Emperor that the banquet would be hosted here (the king’s mother, Amanda, had favored this palace over all the others).

The weather had closed in and it had snowed all night. Jim had spent a very cold two hours outside helping clear the snow for the arriving dignitaries. As part of the palace’s defenses, a transporter shield was in place, so everyone had to be chauffeured in from the transporter center in the nearby town and dropped at the steps leading up to the main entrance.

After snow-clearing, he helped place the king’s throne on an anti-grav cart, and move it down from the State Room on the second floor to the Great Hall, placing it at the center of the head table. Three further tables – easily long enough to seat a hundred and fifty people each, ran the length of the hall, decorated with silver candelabra and colorful floral arrangements.

Despite the banquet, Scotty found time to organize a brunch for all the staff before they left to carry out their respective duties. Jim couldn’t stomach any cooked food, nibbling on some crackers instead. Word arrived that the first dignitaries were on their way and everyone was up and off. Jim took up his assigned role as one of the meeters and greeters, directing guests to the cloakrooms to hang their outerwear, and then to have their invitation ready to hand to the caller at the entrance to the Great Hall, so that their names and positions could be announced as they entered.

The palace was soon filled with hundreds of the great and the good, faces he recognized from news on the nets. Most were Human, but there were also Vulcans and other races represented from the diplomatic delegations assigned by their home planets to Earth.

Uhura had released news of the annulment of the king’s marriage the previous week and had had an exhausting time fielding all the inevitable questions and quashing rumors. But at least no-one would now be surprised when they saw the king’s hair unbraided and no sign of T’Pring.

Once everyone was gathered, the king was ready to make his entrance. Jim was standing outside the doors to the Great Hall, his job over until the end of the banquet. The Vulcan stood tall in a flowing deep purple robe edged with a silver fur-like trim, his hair tucked behind his ears and flowing down his back to his waist. For the first time since Jim had been working at the palace, the Vulcan wore a crown of platinum embedded with sparkling jewels, looking every inch the king he was. Just before he entered the hall, the king turned and glanced at Jim, their eyes meeting and holding. In that moment, he understood this was not a duty the Vulcan was comfortable with and gave him an encouraging smile. The king’s eyes seem to warm and a moment later, he was entering to a fanfare of trumpets. Jim moved to the doorway and watched as the king made his way along a path lined with the visiting dignitaries, all of whom nodded, bowed and curtseyed as he walked past, until he reached the throne at the center of the head table and sat down. That was the cue for everyone to take their places at the tables.


	3. Chapter 3

Not needed during the banquet, Jim made his way to the servants quarters and sat in a chair and quietly dozed. He woke sometime later feeling a little hungry, but after eating, he brought it back and soon after, began to feel a little shivery.

By four o’clock the banquet was over and everyone was streaming out to the fleet of hovercars as the sun dipped towards the horizon. After helping seeing everyone off, Jim found himself called up to the king’s drawing room to light the fire and on entering, found the Vulcan wearing his normal attire, the grand robes and crown nowhere in evidence.

With a nod, he quickly headed towards the hearth and set about getting the fire started. As he worked, he felt himself being watched, but didn’t turn around, instead focusing on his task.

After ten minutes, he’d gotten the fire going enough to be able to put some of the larger logs on. Standing and preparing to leave, he saw the king had moved to the window and was gazing out into the dusk across the snow-covered ornamental gardens to the woods beyond.

“Do you know who that is, James?”

“Sire?” Jim stood up and, with the king’s back turned to him, took a moment to enjoy the lean, powerful frame, the long dark hair falling just shy of a perfectly-formed ass. Even though he was feeling unwell, it apparently hadn’t dampened his libido.

Stepping up to stand beside the king at the window, he was close enough to feel the heat of him. A full-moon had risen, casting a silvery glow across the snow, illuminating the man the Vulcan had noticed, as he gathered wood and set it atop a small sledge. As he stood up apparently satisfied with what he’d gathered and began to pull his cache over the snow-covered ground, Jim recognized Bones.

“That’s Leonard McCoy, Sire. He’s a friend of mine.”

“He must be exceedingly poor if he cannot afford to buy winter fuel. What is his occupation?”

“He used to be a doctor, Sire, but now takes what jobs he can get.”

The king turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “Used to be? Why does he no longer practice?”

Jim looked down. “His father was dying of an incurable disease. Bo—Leonard tried everything to find a cure and the whole time, his dad was in agony – the side effects of the pain meds were making him more ill and he refused to take them. In the end, his dad was bedridden and couldn’t do anything for himself and begged Leonard to help him end his life. He couldn’t bear to see his dad like that and even though it broke his heart, he agreed to give him the release he wanted. Under Empire law, he was struck off the medical register and imprisoned for six months.”

“But he surely would have money from his previous living, a property perhaps he could sell?”

“He did, but while he was in prison his wife divorced him and since he couldn’t defend himself, she cleaned him out of everything he owned, and took full custody of their daughter with no access rights. He was left with one small savings account of his own that she apparently didn’t know about. It was just enough to pay his fine, so he left prison destitute.”

The king fell silent, watching the man trudge through the snow, pulling his burden behind him. “How did you come to know him, James?”

“Leonard managed to work his way across the country until he got here last winter and couldn’t find any more work to pay for further travel. I met him just after he arrived. Over last winter, he made friends in the village – and among some of the palace staff – earning a small living helping heal some of the poor with natural remedies. He decided he liked it here as well as anywhere and decided to stay on.”

“Where does he live?” the king asked. As there were no dwellings within two kilometer radius of the palace, Jim knew the king had worked out that wherever he lived, he was having to travel a long way for the wood.

“He lives just outside the village, Sire. He rents a small cottage next to the fountain, overlooking the forest.”

The king turned to him, his eyebrow raised. “It is illogical to travel over three kilometers to fetch wood when he lives beside a forest.”

“The forest is fenced-off, Sire. No-one is allowed to take wood from it.”

“By whose orders?”

“By royal decree, Sire.”

The king’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “When was this decree passed?”

“It’s been that way as long as I’ve lived, Sire – I don’t know how far back it goes.”

“I will investigate it. As for your friend, to give his father the release he craved under such conditions was an act of mercy, not one that should be punishable by imprisonment – he has been most grievously mistreated.”

“It’s the law, Sire,” Jim pointed out, surprised by the king’s words.

“Then, to quote a nineteenth century Terran writer, ‘the law is an ass’. I cannot believe a Vulcan would have drafted such an edict.”

“I was taught that the laws we have are based on the laws of Vulcans, written by lawyers from Earth at the time Vulcan absorbed us into its empire.”

“That is what I have been led to believe, and in the cases I know of, the interpretation of Vulcan law has been correct, but not in this instance. I can but wonder what other laws have been misinterpreted – such as the regulation regarding the gathering of fuel from the forest.” The king turned back to gaze outside thoughtfully at the object of his interest, now some way in the distance.

Jim remained where he was, enjoying the nearness and wondering when he had become such a masochist, because any time he got this close to the king, it drove him all kinds of crazy that he wasn’t allowed to touch, to have what he craved. It hit him hard that he realized he couldn’t go on like this.

“We will pay your doctor friend a visit,” the king suddenly said into the silence. After today’s activities, the walk will do me good.”

“Walk, Sire?” Jim said alarmed, knowing Vulcans didn’t do well in the cold and the way he was feeling, neither would he. “It’s four kilometers and the snow’s thick on the ground. Are you sure?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how inappropriate it was to be questioning the king’s decision. But when the skin around the king’s eyes crinkled, showing amusement, he breathed a sigh of relief. “I appreciate your concern, James, but it will not kill me to endure a twenty minute walk. Gather food and wine. And also some pine logs. Tonight he will sit beside a roaring fire and enjoy a feast fit for a king.”

Jim grinned, imagining what Bones reaction was going to be at the two of them showing up on his doorstep. “I’ll get onto it now, Sire.”

Down in the kitchen, Pike shook his head as he ordered staff to gather food and some bottles of wine. “Crazy king,” he said, a tone of affection in his voice.

“Why are you calling an act of kindness, crazy?” Jim wanted to know, feeling a bit defensive on the king’s behalf.

“Behind the scenes, and without publicity, he’s constantly doing things, making changes to help people, to lessen the suffering in our world. Your friend is just one person, but there’s so much out there that needs to be done, it’s overwhelming.”

“Here you are, Jim,” Scotty said, hauling over a large hamper. “I’ve included two bottles o’ wine and thrown in a wee bottle o’ bourbon as I know the doc likes, plus food for the three of ye for dinner. Keenser,” the chef said turning to one of his staff, “bring the small anti-grav cart.”

By the time they left the palace, wrapped up against the cold, dusk had turned to twilight, though it was easy to see their way with the bright moon reflecting off the snow.

There had been a delay to departure when Giotto, the king’s head of security, insisted he take a guard with him for protection. The king was adamant he didn’t need it and eventually they agreed that the king could leave just with Jim if he disguised himself as a peasant.

Dressed in heavy coats, hats and gloves, they walked side by side in silence, their footsteps crunching through the virgin snow as a bitter northerly wind whipped around them. It was hard-going, and not feeling well, Jim didn’t have his usual stamina. To take his mind off it, he reflected over that day’s events, thinking about the juxtaposition between the Vulcan quietly walking beside him and the king who commanded the most powerful leaders on Earth. He couldn’t imagine what a burden of responsibility that was for him and could see why each Emperor was prepared for his position before succession by first being given kingdoms such as Earth to govern.

Jim’s mind was brought back to the present by the feeling that his legs were going to give out. He put every ounce of strength he had into putting one foot in front of the other and was glad to see the lights of the village ahead of them standing stark against the black gloom of the forest.

It wasn’t quite cold enough to freeze the village fountain, though chunks of ice were forming over the surface of the water. At Bones’ cottage, Jim rapped loudly on the door. When it swung open, his friend’s face registered surprise at seeing him. “Jim, what the fuck are you doing here at this time of night? Don’t tell me you got booted out of the palace! And who’s your friend?” he added, looking at the Vulcan without recognition – not surprising as his headwear was pulled down to just above his eyes and a scarf was wrapped around his neck and half his face.

“We’ve come to dinner – and before you say anything, we’ve brought it with us. As to my friend,” Jim grinned, “this is King Spock.”

“Yeah, and I’m a monkey’s uncle!” He looked again at Jim’s companion suspiciously. “Who are you?

The king removed his headwear, an eyebrow quirked and Bones’ eyes widened like saucers.

“Get in here! Don’t you know how susceptible to the cold Vulcans are? And I don’t care if you’re half human, you’re not equipped, physically, to cope with sub-zero temperatures.”

Jim was a bit shocked at the gruff way Bones was treating the king, though the Vulcan didn’t seem to mind as he entered the modest home. “I am perfectly capable of recognizing the limits of my endurance and I assure you I have taken every precaution in the choice of my clothing to ensure that there is no danger of hypothermia.”

Bones slammed the door and turned to face them. “I’m not talking about hypothermia, goddamit! Breathing freezing, humid air can affect lungs not designed for such a disparity in temperature.”

“I am gratified by your concern doctor—”

“I’m not a doctor!” Bones cut in angrily over the king, and Jim wanted to facepalm.

“So I understand.”

Bones threw Jim a dirty look, and Jim tried to look innocent, shrugging and smiling back.

“Nevertheless, you are trained as one,” the king continued, “and have clearly retained that knowledge. We are here to dine with you.”

“I don’t—” Bones began.

“We have brought provisions,” the king interrupted and indicated the cart they had brought with them. Jim was glad to see his friend cut off before he went off on another rant,.

“Why? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to turn down a free meal. But if you went and visited all the friends of your servants, I’d’ve heard about it by now.”

“I observed you gathering winter fuel from the palace. James was in the room attending to the fire and at my request, identified you.”

“Well don’t just stand there, get your coats off,” he said gruffly.

After hanging them up, Bones led them from the small vestibule into his living room where a fire burned in a large hearth. The room was sparsely furnished with a small dining table and chairs at one end, and a small couch facing the hearth. Jim noticed there was no evidence of Christmas in the room, realizing that this time of year probably reminded him how much he missed his daughter, and so probably didn’t feel like celebrating.

“We’ve brought you more wood,” Jim said, pointing at a large box on the cart. “Can you give me a hand, Bones?”

“Allow me,” the king said to Jim’s surprise. As if the container was filled with feathers, he lifted it easily and placed it beside the fireplace.

Jim picked up the hamper and placed it on the table. “Food and wine, and a little bottle of something from Scotty,” Jim grinned.

McCoy pulled out the bottle of bourbon and smiled appreciatively. “A man after my own heart. Tell him thanks.”

Despite his protestations to the contrary, the king must have been affected by the cold night air, as he stood close to the warmth of the fireplace watching as Jim and Bones unpacked the hamper and fetched plates and cutlery.

Scotty had put in roast beef, ham and goose and cooked vegetables, as well as food palatable to a Vulcan. Bones disappeared into his kitchen to warm it up, leaving Jim with the king.

“This fire effectively heats only this room. Yet your friend has a central heating system he is not utilizing it. It is most illogical.”

How to explain the effects of poverty and the need for thriftiness to someone who has riches beyond the dreams of most, Jim wondered. “Central heating costs a lot more to run, Sire, than a single fire. Leonard would rather spend his earnings on food and rent for this cottage. Besides, I’m pretty certain he’d argue with you over the illogic of waste, heating rooms he isn’t occupying.”

“Such an argument indeed has merit,” the king agreed.

As they ate, they talked, with subjects ranging from politics and current affairs to a discussion of the various incursions by enemies of the empire across their borders and which ones constituted the greatest threat. Jim noticed Bones seemed to relax in the king’s presence and wasn’t quite so gruff with him, though neither did he treat him with any degree of deference. If it bothered the Vulcan, he didn’t show it.

“You not hungry Jim?” Bones asked when he’d pushed his food around his plate for the umpteenth time. He didn’t feel sick any more, but neither did the food look appetizing.

“Just feeling a bit off-color, Bones. Probably picked up one of those winter bugs.”

“Why did you not speak of this earlier?” the king asked, his tone admonishing.

“It’s not a big deal. I’ve felt much worse than this, believe me. I just don’t have much of an appetite, that’s all,” Jim explained, choosing not to mention his exhaustion from the walk. It would send Bones into ‘mother-hen’ mode and he hated being molly-coddled.

After the meal, they adjourned to the couch where Jim sat in the middle, the tight fit forcing him to be pressed up against the king’s warm body. Bones nursed a small glass of the bourbon Scotty had given him.

When the king innocently asked after the health of the villagers, Jim closed his eyes in mortification as Bones went off into a rant about the quality of healthcare in the region and the lack of provisions for those unable to afford to travel for treatment to the medical centers in the cities.

Jim noticed the king listening without interrupting, other than to ask questions for clarification, and a final one asking how Bones would choose to organize an effective healthcare system.

When they finally left, hours later, the wind had picked up and Jim steeled himself for the long walk back. They made their way in contemplative silence – Jim could tell the king was thinking about the things he’d learned that evening, and Jim was remembering how it felt to be pressed against the hard, sinewy body of the Vulcan he had fallen for when they’d been sitting on the couch.

He knew he was going to have to leave as he wasn’t one for the agony of unrequited love. Six months working at the palace would look good on his resumé and Pike would provide him with a good reference. He should be able to find work in the city quite easily. It was a shame he couldn’t pull on all he’d learned at the Fleet Academy, but dismissal for cheating wasn’t going to instill confidence in prospective employers.

His mind was so caught up on his plans and a sense of sadness at having to leave the king, that he didn’t notice his exhaustion until he was forced to stop, as his legs threatened to give out.

“Sire, I’m sorry but walking in this snow, having to pick my feet up so high each step, is wearing me out. Can we slow down?”

The king turned and Jim could easily see concern on his face. “I will call for a hovercar.”

Jim felt embarrassed at the thought of having to be rescued. “Sire, I’ll be okay if we just slow down a bit. Please don’t call them.”

Perhaps it was his tone of voice but the king capitulated, although Jim could see it was reluctantly. “Very well. Then walk behind me – I will slide my feet so as to create a path for you.”

“You don’t—”

“Or I call the palace,” the king threatened over his protest.

“Okay, I’ll walk behind you, Sire.”

Jim was surprised at how effective the king’s method was. Few men could have kept up being effectively a snow-plough for the distance they had to travel, but the king’s superior strength made it look as though it was no effort at all.

They continued their walk, Jim feeling ever more exhausted, forced to focus on putting one foot in front of the other until the whole world narrowed down to his feet and the ground. It was with some surprise that he saw that very ground suddenly come up to meet him as a wave of dizziness overtook him and his legs gave way.

He was dimly aware of being held in the king’s arms, cradled like a child, the Vulcan’s voice urgent as he called for emergency transportation. And then he blacked out completely.

~*~

“You’re an idiot!”

Jim’s head felt as though it were filled with cotton wool as he swam up to full consciousness. He had to blink a few times to clear his eyes and the first sight he had was of Bones looking down at him, scowling.

“Huh?”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Bones growled.

Jim turned his head to see he was in his own bedroom, the bright sunshine streaming through the window making him squint.

“Thinking?” It was something he felt incapable of at this particular moment as he felt in a sort of floaty between place, not asleep but not fully awake either.

“Going out in this weather with the flu. You must have been feeling pretty shitty when you were at my place the other day – why didn’t you say something?”

_The other day?_ “How long…?” His throat was scratchy and he realized he was parched.

“I’ve kept you under for two days and you’re now dosed on tranqs which will keep your body relaxed while you recuperate.”

“Drink?”

As Bones put a straw to his mouth and told him only to take sips, he tried to get his brain in gear. Something his friend said didn’t quite gel and it took a moment before he realized. “You kept me under? You told me you’re not authorized to prescribe or administer meds.”

The scowl left Bones face. “Your royal buddy had my medical license reinstated.”

Jim grinned and felt his lip split. “Ow.”

“Do I have to do everything for you?” Bones said, rolling his eyes as he applied salve to his dry lips.

He was really happy for his friend. “That’s great, Bones. You’re a doctor again!”

“I’m more than a doctor – although I’ll still be practicing so I don’t forget the basics. But the green-blooded hobgoblin somehow managed to talk me into overseeing the overhaul of the entire healthcare system, so that even people in remote areas can get easy access.”

“Wow.” Jim was impressed.

“My salary’s going to be four times what I earned before.” A smile spread across his friend’s face. “I’ll be able to afford the best lawyers to fight Joce for access to Jo.”

Before Jim could respond, a blonde woman in a nurse’s uniform came into his room. “Hello Jim, welcome back to the land of the living! I’m Nurse Chapel.” She turned to Bones. “How is he, doctor?”

“Knowing Jim, he’ll be chomping at the bit in a few hours. He’ll likely be up and about by tomorrow.”

“Is that wise? He should remain in bed until he’s fully recuperated.”

What was it about medical staff that they talked like you didn’t exist. “Hello! I’m here,” Jim said. “It’s okay to talk to _me_ about the state of my health.”

Bones rolled his eyes. “Now I know he’s feeling better when he starts to get mouthy. He’s fit as a horse, Christine. It’ll be fine to let him up tomorrow.”

“You know him best, doctor. Comm. me if there’s anything I can do for you. Glad to see you’re better, Jim.” With that, she left.

Jim let out a low whistle.

“Down boy,” Bones said. “I saw her first!”

Jim grinned. “Are you finally going to fall off that celibate wagon of yours?”

“Maybe,” Bones hedged, getting out a tricorder and aiming it at him.

The door opened and Jim found himself gazing at the king, who remained in the doorway. Dressed informally in a black crew-neck sweater and pants, Jim thought he cut a dashing figure.

“Nurse Chapel informed me you had regained consciousness, James,” the Vulcan said, throwing an admonishing look at Bones.

“I was going to let you know. I just wanted to give him a thorough check first.”

“Very well, doctor.” The dark gaze turned back to him and Jim swore he could see the Vulcan’s eyes soften. “I am gratified to see you have recovered.

Jim realized he had a big grin on his face and wondered how long it had been there – the tranqs were definitely messing with his head. “Sorry to have caused so much trouble, Sire.”

“I assure you it was no trouble, James. Indeed, the last three days have proven to be most illuminating. The doctor and I have…to use his parlance – worked out a deal – that I believe will benefit many. I will leave you to rest with the doctor.”

After the door closed, Jim found himself under an assessing gaze. “How long have you had feelings for him?”

Jim closed his eyes. “How did you—?”

“I had a tricorder aimed at you when he walked in – your heart-rate, respiration and blood-pressure all went right up, you had adrenaline, serotonin and endorphins flood your system, pheromone production increased, your—”

“Okay Bones!” Jim interrupted the embarrassing list. “I get the picture. I don’t know when it started; but it’s been a while. I figured I’m going to have to leave the palace and get a job in one of the cities. I can’t stay here and moon at him from a distance. It’d just drive me insane.”

Bones looked at him with sadness. “I’m sorry kid. When will you leave?”

Jim swallowed. The longer he left it, the harder it would be, and meanwhile, more time in the king’s presence would just be more of the agony of wanting what he couldn’t have. “Tomorrow. I’ll talk to Pike first thing and then head out.”

“You’re not well enough to travel, Jim.”

“I’ll be fine. Like you said to your girlfriend just now—”

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“Yet! Jim grinned. “I’m fit and pretty healthy, bouts of influenza aside. I’ll take it easy the first few days, I promise. I’ll wait until the new year to start looking for work.”

Bones stayed with him for the remainder of the afternoon, keeping him company. When Jim became sleepy, he exacted a final promise that he’d keep in touch, and then left him to rest.


	4. Chapter 4

Early the following morning before the sun had risen, Jim got up and began to pack. He didn’t own much and when he found the holo of the king in his bureau, he felt a sharp ache in his chest, his throat closing up at the thought of leaving the Vulcan. He realized he wasn’t going to be able to say goodbye, as he couldn’t be certain he’d hold it together. The last thing he wanted was for the king to discover one of his servants having inappropriate feelings for him. They’d had some great discussions, when the dynamics had shifted so that they had talked as equals, and that’s what Jim wanted the king to remember of him.

Below stairs, Jim found Pike in his office.

“Good to see you’re up and about, Jim,” Pike said, smiling. “You gave us all a bit of a scare. The doctor did tell you, you’re officially on sick-leave for another couple of days, didn’t he?”

“Uh, no. I’ve told him I’m leaving today. Going to look for a job in the city.”

Pike frowned. “Why Jim? You’re doing so well here. The king’s been very pleased with you – no more than that, he’s been very impressed with you. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a promotion for you in the new year.”

“It’s personal, Chris. I just…need to get away. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, getting me out of the gutter and getting my self-respect back. But I have to go.”

Pike looked at him long and hard. Then nodded. “I’m going to be sorry to see you go, Jim, and I know everyone else will too. You’ve become part of the family.”

Jim swallowed hard. “Don’t…” his voice cracked as he bit back the tears that threatened, staring at the ceiling so they wouldn’t overflow. “Please, don’t make this harder for me,” he whispered.

He couldn’t say any more and quietly left to head back to his room. Living in the palace, he’d spent almost none of the salary he’d earned and was easily able to afford a taxi to the station in the nearby town; from there he took the high-speed monorail into the city. Being low season, he knew he’d have no trouble finding a hotel to stay in for a few days until he got his own digs and then could start looking for a job.

~*~

The room was basic but warm and clean, the tiny bathroom containing just a toilet, sink and shower. The bed was a decent size, though, and a small loveseat, bureau, table and two chairs that sat by a window, completed the room’s furnishings. There wasn’t a view unless you counted office blocks and a shopping mall that rose high into the sky; glancing out, Jim thought it unlikely the room ever saw natural sunlight.

He spent ten minutes unpacking his bag, knowing if he left everything in it, it would quickly become a horrible mess as he rummaged through trying to find things that were inevitably at the very bottom. The holo of Spock he put on the nightstand and snorted, thinking anyone seeing it would think he was one of those ardent royalists who follow their every move on the nets’ gossip columns. He still wasn’t sure why he’d kept it, since looking at the regal face, those beautiful exotic features, made his heart ache with longing.

Feeling exhausted, he was reminded he was still recuperating. So even though it was only a little after midday, he lay on the bed to nap and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

When a chime woke him, he was initially disorientated, and while his brain came online and he glanced around the now semi-darkened room, remembering where he was, it sounded again. He must have slept for several hours, he realized as he rolled off the bed and walked over to the door.

As it slid back, it was all he could do not to let his jaw hit the floor.

“Sire?” A slew of conflicting emotions washed over him, shock, happiness, chagrin, bewilderment—

“James,” the king said, breaking into his tumbling thoughts. He looked distinctly uncomfortable and behind him, Jim could see one of the palace guards standing to attention.

“Uh…” Unusually for him, probably because he’d just woken up, he had no idea what to say – except _what the fuck?_ – but that didn’t seem appropriate.

“May I come in?” the king prompted.

“Oh, yeah, of course. And…?” he waved vaguely to the guard.

“He will remain outside.”

“Right.” He stood to one side, his thoughts going a mile a minute, trying to figure out what the hell the king was doing visiting him in his hotel. He’d squared his departure with Pike – so he was pretty certain he hadn’t done anything wrong. If they’d thought he’d stolen anything, they would have sent the guards, sans king, so…?

The king entered and glanced around the room.

“You have a holo of me,” he observed.

Jim felt a flood of embarrassment wash over him.

He watched as the king walked to the window to glance out, and then up, at what little could be seen of the darkening sky. Finally he turned to face Jim, hands clasped behind his back.

“Why did you leave?”

Okay, so this was getting even more surreal. _The king of planet Earth, one day to be Emperor over half the known galaxy_ , had followed one of his servants here, to this hotel, wanting to know why he’d left his employment.

And what the hell could he say? Not the truth, that’s for sure. But the trouble was, he didn’t have a story planned for this eventuality, because even in his most stupid, crazy dreams, he never thought he’d be faced with this scenario.

“I loved working at the palace, sire. Truly. But I felt it was time to move on.”

“Why?”

“Uh…It was mostly manual work and I need to exercise my brain, too.” That sounded pretty convincing, he thought.

“I had intended to speak to you, once you had recuperated, of a change in role for you.”

Jim could see that Spock looked tense, not even in the way he did right before the Feast of Stephen banquet. “Pike mentioned he thought you might be considering a promotion for me.”

“Did he?”

“But even if I was moved up from menial work to administrative activities, it wouldn’t be enough.”

“What would be enough, James?” Spock probed.

_You treating me as an equal. Making love with you. Waking up in your bed every day. Being at your side._ Not that he could say any of that. He looked down at the floor, unable to hold the unfathomable gaze. “I don’t know.”

Spock stepped forward and then halted. “James, do you recall what you said to me the night you fell ill – after you collapsed?”

_After?_ He’d passed out, or at least he thought he had, because his last memory was of him sliding to the ground.

“No. I just remember my legs giving way, and then waking up to Bones yesterday.”

“I see. Perhaps you were delirious.”

The king being Vulcan, wouldn’t be discussing something that didn’t have a point to it. Superfluous small-talk was not something they did. So Jim had to imagine he must have said something of interest to the king while he was semi-conscious. But he had no idea what and he really, really was hoping it wasn’t something embarrassing. But then again, the king wouldn’t have come all the way here just to tell him he’d embarrassed himself while out of his head with a fever.

“You’ll need to enlighten me.”

“You…confessed your love for me,” the king said quietly.

A flood of embarrassment washed over Jim and he turned away, mortified. A moment later, he felt two hot hands grip his shoulders.

“James.”

“Sire?” he answered, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Jim,” the king whispered, his mouth so close, Jim could feel his breath caress the back of his neck, and he shivered. “I want you too.”

Jim pulled away from him and spun around.

“Sire, with all due respect, I’m not prepared to become some kind of concubine for your pleasure, and have to watch while you take another wife.” Yeah, at the beginning of all this, he would have been okay with that – would have leapt at it, when it was nothing but lust. But he knew now, loving Spock, he couldn’t bear the thought of him being with anyone else.

“You think so little of me?” the king said, his face a stony mask.

“You’re king of Earth and god-knows how many other planets, the Emperor’s heir. And I’m a servant in your household who fixes your fires and runs errands. What else am I supposed to think?”

“It is understandable,” Spock conceded. “I will admit I had first thought to take you as a lover only. I had desired you since the day I walked into the State Room and you were tending a fire, while presenting a most pleasing aspect of your anatomy to me. I found myself aroused.”

Jim snorted at the image.

“You may not realize the significance, but after our wedding, I found myself unable to respond to T’Pring. I had believed myself incapable of any sexual response until that fateful day I walked in on you. It was then that I recognized my true sexual orientation. I determined then that I wanted to learn more about you, become acquainted with you, and made the decision to remain at the summer palace for the winter, that I might do so. As I came to know you, I found my need for you grew and I was struck by your intelligence and insightfulness, by our compatibility demonstrated by the ease with which we communicated and understood one another. It was in such stark contrast with what I had with T’Pring that I knew my marriage was a sham and could not continue. 

"However, I had been deceiving myself regarding the depth of my regard for you. I only realized it the night I began an attempt to seduce you, when I discovered I wished for more than just the physical—”

“When you got me to undress you?”

“Yes. I knew, as I watched you, that I had an emotional attachment to you; that slaking my lust in your body was only a part of what I wanted and needed. I had not known, until then, that I also loved you. I knew in that moment, as I stood naked and looked into your beautiful eyes, that I wished to bond with you and have you stand at my side as my consort.”

“You…I…” He shook his head, trying to clear it. Maybe he was going to wake up in a minute, alone in his hotel room, and remember this bizarre dream when the king came and told him he wanted to marry him.

“Ow!”

“What…?”

Jim grinned ruefully. “I was pinching myself to see if I was awake.”

The king smiled. Actually full-on smiled. It warmed Jim’s heart. And then reality bit.

“What about your father, or T’Pau. They’d never agree to it.”

“T’Pau has already set a precedent and my father would be entirely hypocritical were he to deny me my wish.”

“Sorry?” Spock wasn’t making sense.

“You are aware my mother is human. Are you familiar with the story of how they met?”

Jim’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me she was one of your dad’s servants.” Hope blossomed in his heart.

“She was. She is an extraordinary woman and T’Pau was eventually convinced. I consider you to be an extraordinary man, James. I believe I will have no difficulty convincing T’Pau after the service you have already done the Empire.”

“Me?” Jim asked, incredulously. So how did fixing fires and carrying furniture rate on the galactic scale of service to the empire?

“You will recall an early discussion of ours when you suggested I consider the parable of King Solomon and his judgment. I suggested that principle to my father in dealing with a situation that is only known of at the highest levels. A planetoid in Vulcan space close, to the Romulan neutral zone, was found to be rich in dilithium and pergium deposits, two rare and valuable ores. The planet is certainly in Vulcan space and the Romulans know it, yet since the discovery, they now dispute the space. After I spoke to him, my father contacted the Romulan Emperor H’Lanack and said he would be willing to cede that sector of space to the Romulans after the planetoid had been completely vaporized. Or, the two empires could form an alliance and not only would the profits from mining be split 50-50, but there would be great financial savings in not defending that particular border, allowing reserves to be funneled into other more pressing disputes. H’Lanack agreed to the proposal and a treaty was signed three days ago. A formal announcement has not yet been made as we wish first to deal with the Klingon situation, first.”

Jim was astounded. “That’s incredible! I know the build-up of armaments by the Romulans has been a big concern and it’s rumored they’ve got cloaking technology too.” He’d learned all that at the Fleet Academy. ‘Know thy enemy’ was a core part of the curriculum, with studies in culture, language and history of each of the main threats to the empire. As s result, Jim could speak fluent Klingon, Romulan, Cardassian and Tholian, as well as other mandatory languages such as Vulcan, Andorian and Rigellian.

“Jim.” Spock’s voice, he noticed, was deep and husky. The room was now almost dark, the king a silhouette against the window.

They both took a step forward and suddenly they were pressed together, kissing as though their lives depended on it. As tongues searched and discovered, Jim wrapped his arms around Spock’s shoulder to do what he had longed for since that day he’d brushed the Vulcan’s hair. His fingers slipped through the soft strands, one to grip the back of Spock’s head, the other gently carding the hair rhythmically.

One of Spock’s hands gripped his ass, the other was busy undoing the buttons of his shirt. Once accomplished, fingertips lightly brushed his skin, pausing at one of his nipples to tease it erect.

Jim groaned and shifted one leg between Spock’s thighs, allowing him to press his hard-on against the Vulcan’s hips, feeling him shift so that he could feel Spock’s arousal too. Just that thought nearly undid him.

Jim wanted to be able to see Spock in the throes of passion and ordered the lights to twenty percent. Then he gripped the hem of Spock’s tunic and tugged it over his head, while his own shirt was pushed off his shoulders, sliding to the floor. They kissed again as they worked on the fastenings for each other’s pants. As Spock triumphantly got his open and began to push them down his thighs, laughter bubbled up inside Jim at the thought that the king may follow tradition and always have someone else undress him (and from now on it was going to be him – Sulu and Chekov would have to find other jobs in the palace), Spock apparently had no compunction about undressing someone else.

Not wearing shoes, Jim was able to kick his trousers off and toe off his socks. Then kneeling, he pulled off Spock’s shoes and socks before unfastening his pants and slowly slid them down his legs. The scent of musk was released and Jim inhaled, becoming wildly turned on, his own cock leaking inside his briefs. When it came to Spock’s underwear, this time he kept his eyes open, watching his cock spring free from the confines. Distracted, he left them at his knees as he leaned forward and took the cock into his mouth, getting a taste of the Vulcan zinging across his tongue. Spock gasped and it spurred Jim on.

A part of him couldn’t believe this was happening – it was like some cheesy fairy-tale – like the prince and the pauper. He thought it awesome that all his longing and craving had apparently been reciprocated, though he had no idea when it had started for Spock. It was enough to know that his love was returned.

Spock suddenly pulled away from him, his cock leaving Jim’s mouth with an audible pop. “Jim, I want to make love with you, but my control is tenuous. Please…”

Jim stood and shucking off his briefs, took Spock’s hand and led him to the unmade bed. Tumbling onto it, Jim found himself lying on Spock and pushed his hips down to squeeze their cocks between their bodies. The Vulcan’s hair was fanned out over the pillow, framing the exotic face and Jim fell in love all over again at the stunning sight.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jim said reverently.

Dark eyes watched him as his hand shakily traced the shape of his ear from lobe to tip and he bent down to take those gorgeous lips in a sensuous kiss as he felt Spock’s fingers skim down the length of his back and cup his ass. 

Spock arched up so their cock’s pressed together and it was like a bolt of electricity charging through is body, lighting it up. Jim found himself rolled over, and above him, Spock sat up so that he was straddling his thighs. Taking Jim’s cock, he began to work it, his hand moving from base to tip too slowly and gently and Jim gasped at the exquisite pleasure that centered in his groin.

“I want thee, James. Willst thou have me?”

Jim blinked, realizing Spock had slipped into Vulcan.

Jim reached up with one hand to cup Spock’s cheek, feeling the Vulcan tenderly press into it. “I am thine,” he whispered.

Spock scooted back and then bent over him, taking in the whole of his cock, while his hair cascaded around him like a curtain. It was the heat that struck him first, like liquid fire. Spock pulled up the shaft, the tongue snaking around the head of his cock, pressing flatly against the underside as warm hands cupped his balls, gently rolling them.

Jim reached out, pushing the hair off Spock’s face, so that he could see the sight of the Vulcan sucking him like there was nothing else in the world he’d rather be doing. Holding Spock’s head, Jim began to gently thrust upwards, fucking his mouth and the erotic sight and feel of it nearly sent him over the edge.

“Stop!” he said before he reached the point of no-return. “I want you to fuck me, but I haven’t got any lube.”

Spock sat up on his haunches and Jim took a moment to admire the view of the well-defined pecs and abs, the dusting of hair between two dark-green nipples, the thatch of black hair that surrounded a thick verdant shaft. A moment later, he got his first clear view of Spock’s ass as got off the bed, bent over his pants and pulled something from the pocket. The thought of pushing his cock between those asscheeks…

Spock turned and as he climbed back on the bed, Jim caught sight of the tube he clutched.

“At least one of us is prepared,” Jim grinned, and pulled his knees back for Spock. The Vulcan’s sharp intake of breath told him the view was appreciated. Leaning over Jim, Spock took a large lock of hair in his hand and with the palm of his hand, pressed it against Jim’s cock, gently sliding the hair along the length of Jim’s shaft as a finger slipped inside him. Jim gasped at the dual sensations, but it was the feeling on his cock that was indescribable, just the sight of it could set him off at any time.

“I think I’ve got a kind of kinky ‘thing’ going with your hair,” Jim confessed with a rueful smile between gasps of pleasure. “I guess it must have started that day you got me to brush it.”

He was so caught up in the sensations, he barely noticed what Spock was doing to his ass until he stroked his fingers just _there_ and he gasped, his hips bucking upwards. “Fuck!”

“So responsive,” Spock said, a small smile playing about his lips and stroked there again. “Prepare me,” Spock said, handing the tube to Jim.

“You’re not going to be bossy in bed, are you?” Jim wondered aloud.

“Only when you wish me to be, Ashayam,” he said, earning a smile in response as he straddled Jim’s thighs to give him easy access. Jim cupped Spock’s shaft at the base and watched as his fist glided up the length, covering it in glistening gel, the fit perfect in his hand. As his thumb caressed over the double ridge beneath the head, Spock let out a low moan, his eyes sliding shut. “Jim,” he whispered. “I must have thee.”

Jim let go and they repositioned themselves, Jim wrapping his thighs around Spock’s waist as the Vulcan, braced on his hands, slowly pushed against the tight ring of muscle until it gave way.

Seeing the dark green shaft slowly disappear inside him, the feeling of being slowly filled by Spock was the most awesome thing he’d ever experienced in his life. Once full seated, Spock pulled out and then thrust slowly back, this time met part way by Jim as he arched his back up.

Spock leaned down to claim his mouth, biting his lips, tongue sliding in and thrusting against his own to the same rhythm as his snapping hips. Jim writhed and moaned with the sensations; felt Spock mouth move down his neck and along his chest to bite his nipple hard, then gently lick and suck it, taking away the sting until it was hard and tender, moving to the other for similar treatment.

Jim’s hands were back in Spock’s hair, fingers running through it, feeling the soft strands slide over his skin. He could feel a coil of heat building in him as Spock began to speed up, pushing inside him in a sensual rhythm. Impossibly, Spock’s back arched further as his tongue slid down the ridges of Jim’s abs and swirled wetly over the head of his cock, and without breaking his pace, sucked him in.

“Fuck, Spock, oh my god…!”

It was a feat no human could do and the sight of being fucked and sucked simultaneously sent him screaming over the edge, hot jets pulsing hard into an even hotter, sucking mouth.

Spock slammed into him once, then again and stilled, eyes shut, mouth open as he gasped his way through his own orgasm.

They lay, side by side, regaining their breaths. Still technical recuperating, and not having eaten much for the past few days, it took Jim longer, but eventually they faced each other, fingers of one hand twined together.

Jim reached out and pushed a lock of hair back, tucking it behind Spock’s ear, the action causing the Vulcan to shiver.

“So you came here prepared. Good strategy.”

Spock’s answer was a slight twitching of his lips.

“I should be disturbed by the thought that you knew you were going to fuck me.”

“I _hoped_ ,” Spock corrected. “When you were ill, your words, your feelings transmitted to me clearly. But I was uncertain when I arrived here, whether you would consent. My optimism grew when I saw the holo of me beside your bed.”

"I couldn't bear the thought of leaving you completely behind," Jim confessed. "Even though it was a reminder of what I thought I couldn't have."

There was silence for a while as they each gazed at the other.

“So that thing you did with me, when you bent over double. Can you…?”

“…do it to myself?” Spock asked, his eyes twinkling.

“Yeah,” Jim said, breathily, his mind in overdrive.

“Perhaps if you ask me nicely, I’ll show you.”

The image of Spock bent over double, his long hair falling about his thighs, exploded into Jim’s head. And just like that, he was hard as a rock again.


	5. Epilogue

It had been a hell of a year, Jim reflected, as he and Spock prepared for the annual Feast of Stephen banquet.

In the Spring, the two of them helped to decimate the Klingons fleet after being lured into their booby trap. It was a sweet moment when T’Pau had finally caved, allowing Spock to take his own ship into battle with Jim as his First Officer, after he’d logically pointed out that as Emperor, he would be taken more seriously by both his allies and enemies, if he’d proven himself as a warrior. Spock was now free to command a starship anytime he wished, and they'd discussed spending half the year doing a combination of domestic, scientific and exploratory missions.

The Summer had seen them formally bond in a ceremony on Vulcan, attended by their family and friends – including all the household staff – and watched by billions around the Empire. In a break with tradition, Spock didn’t braid his hair, because his bondmate liked to play with it while they fucked, though that wasn’t the official reason Uhura had put out in a press statement.

By the Fall, Bones new reforms were ready to be implemented and were rolled out across Earth, proving to be a great success. On a personal note, he won his appeal against his lack of access rights to his daughter. In a new judgment, it was deemed fair he should be able to see Jo fifty percent of the year. He'd taken advantage of it immediately, and hearing her giggles as she ran around the palace made Jim smile. The staff, of course, all adored her.

At the start of Winter, the people of Earth were free to roam the forests and make use of the wood. The one hundred and forty eight year-old law, fencing them all off, had to been to preserve them following a period of massive over-deforestation immediately prior to Vulcan occupation. An edict was set up to ensure it wouldn’t happen again, and now the people who lived in the shadow of the palace wouldn’t have to travel so far to gather winter fuel.

“I think I’d look better in gold,” Jim said, staring into the mirror. 

“So you have said, however the traditional color of the consort is red.”

“I think this crown’s too big,” Jim said, sliding it around, trying to get it to sit straight.

“It was measured for your head and is therefore a perfect fit.”

“I think my eyebrows…Mnnnnnng!”

Jim luxuriated in the feel of Spock’s tongue sliding against his own and felt his nerves calm down.

“Oh for god’s sake you two, get a room!” Bones griped.

“I will not point out the obvious,” Spock said, releasing his bondmate’s lips, while Jim was able to sense across their bond that it was with a certain degree of reluctance. “Had you not barged into our _bedroom_ , Doctor, you would not have had to witness—”

“I didn’t barge. I knocked and then entered.”

“Vulcan’s have superior hearing. I would have heard—”

“Boys, boys!” Jim said with a grin stepping between them as he so often had to. “Let’s go.”

The guests were all waiting in the Great Hall. Outside, Jim wished he could will his heartbeat down like Spock could. 

_I love thee._ Spock told him across the bond.

Jim looked into Spock’s eyes and saw into his soul. _Love you too_ , he echoed back.

Pressing their index and middle fingers together, they entered to a fanfare of trumpets, Jim looking every inch as regal as his royal bondmate.

 

[finis]

 

Good King Wenceslas

_Good King Wenceslas looked out_  
On the feast of Stephen  
When the snow lay round about  
Deep and crisp and even  
Brightly shone the moon that night  
Though the frost was cruel  
When a poor man came in sight  
Gath'ring winter fuel 

_"Hither, page, and stand by me_  
If thou know'st it, telling  
Yonder peasant, who is he?  
Where and what his dwelling?"  
"Sire, he lives a good league hence  
Underneath the mountain  
Right against the forest fence  
By Saint Agnes' fountain." 

_"Bring me flesh and bring me wine_  
Bring me pine logs hither  
Thou and I will see him dine  
When we bear him thither."  
Page and monarch forth they went  
Forth they went together  
Through the rude wind's wild lament  
And the bitter weather 

_"Sire, the night is darker now_  
And the wind blows stronger  
Fails my heart, I know not how,  
I can go no longer."  
"Mark my footsteps, my good page  
Tread thou in them boldly  
Thou shalt find the winter's rage  
Freeze thy blood less coldly." 

_In his master's steps he trod_  
Where the snow lay dinted  
Heat was in the very sod  
Which the Saint had printed  
Therefore, Christian men, be sure  
Wealth or rank possessing  
Ye who now will bless the poor  
Shall yourselves find blessing 


End file.
